


Mustang Sally

by JoAsakura



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: AU, Fluff, M/M, Teenage AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-21
Updated: 2017-01-21
Packaged: 2018-09-19 00:56:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,390
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9410465
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JoAsakura/pseuds/JoAsakura
Summary: Written for Reaper76 week- a combination of the "In Another Life" AU prompt and the "Cover Me" Fluff prompt, because I fell down the Voltron Season 2 rabbit hole the day before writing this.Gabriel Reyes is a young man who likes things a certain way. Of course, Jack Morrison is the one who sets his entire day on it's ear.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [PrettyArbitrary](https://archiveofourown.org/users/PrettyArbitrary/gifts).



> Dedicated to PrettyArbitrary who has aided and abetted the entire headcanon of Gabe and Jack's awful cars (and is totally responsible for their name-calling) :D

 

If there's one thing everyone agrees on about Gabriel Xavier Reyes, it's this: The kid does not do things by half-measures.

This is true in his education, his hobbies and his workplace ethic. But it has never been truer when it comes to his car.

The 1986 Dodge Aries K car was arguably one of the worst cars ever built, but where other people saw a garbage failure of the American auto industry, Gabriel saw a canvas. The car itself had cost a hundred bucks and a case of PBR, but after a year of hard work, his vision had come to fruition.

Lowered just enough, he'd enhanced the rattlecan flat black exterior with purple LED undercarriage lighting. His cousin Luis knew a guy who'd known a guy who cut vinyl, so the holographic purple racing stripes had come to life. His best friend Amelie had wicked good calligraphy skills, and had provided, in an Old English font extravaganza on the trunk lid, the car's well-earned name: ELVIRA. But he was proudest of the purple velour interior. He'd sewed the seat covers himself, bedazzled every single rhinestone in the glittering skulls himself (he'd be a fool to turn down his grandmother's weekly AC Moore club coupons. Anyone who dissed the craft store was, in Gabriel's opinion, a poser and a fool and worthy only of contempt.)

Sure, the tires were bald, it smelled like something may have thrown up and then died in the back seat, and made some worrying noises at speeds over 45 MPH, but Elvira was his aesthetic masterwork and he was going to give her the attention she deserved.

**Sunday, 6 AM, the Commander Car Wash Self-Serv.**

Gabriel's first thought as he rolled up on bay 1 to give Elvira her weekly washdown and spa treatment, was that someone had abandoned a pile of garbage at the car wash.

He realised after a moment that it was a 1967 mustang fastback. It might- once, when Nixon was still president- have been red. Now it was mostly primer grey. The back bumper was re-enforced with a collection of duct tape and bailing wire.

Gabe got out of his car, absently scratching at his chin with a black-lacquered nail as he approached the shit car in his bay. It looked to be about fifty percent bondo, and aside from a peeling driver's seat and steering wheel, and a gear shift knob that might have been part of an antler, the car was almost devoid of interior. There was a dirty duffle bag in the back, but no sign of the driver. Water dripped from the body, so clearly, someone had been in the process of washing it. "What a piece of shit!" Gabriel said, a little louder than he intended to, even after noticing the tires were most definitely NOT bald.

"Hey, watch what you say about my car, asshole." A voice with a flat midwestern accent behind him said, and Gabriel wheeled around to find himself face to face with the owner. "Especially if that mall goth nightmare there is yours, because, man. That is. That's something."

The owner of the Mustang was tall and blonde, pale hair streaked even lighter from the sun. The sleeves on his dirty t-shirt were rolled up, revealing a faint farmer's tan on his freckled pale skin, and his shirt and jeans were both soaked, clinging to the young man's body in ways that made Gabriel intensely grateful for his baggy shorts.

He had ridiculously blue eyes and when he flashed an incredulous smile while insulting Gabriel's car, it was crooked and gap-toothed and had alarmingly cute dimples.

So naturally, what Gabriel said was: "Oh, I'm sorry. Do you have a body in the trunk of this piece of crap, or do you just eat them with the roadkill, there, Jethro?"

"Fuck you, she does 110 on the straightaway." Blonde sniffed, marching past Gabriel to pump a few more quarters in the Self- Wash. "Now, if you'll excuse me, man's gotta finish takin' his shower, I gotta job interview comin' up."

"Wait, are you *living* in that piece of crap?" Gabriel blurted out, and the blonde proceeded to turn the hose on him.

"I'll be back later, hobo deliverance car guy." Gabriel sputtered as he backed up. "You better not be living in Elvira's favourite bay."

"Wait, your car is named... Elvira?" The blonde even made air quotes as he said it, which somehow made Gabriel madder than the question itself.

"She's the mistress of the dark, dude!" Gabriel shouted back. "You don't mess with the fucking mistress of the dark! Souls have DIED in this car, dude!"

"That's alright, man." The blonde laughed and then proceeded to turn the hose back on himself. Gabriel watched the shirt stick to the lines of his abs, and promptly turned up the stereo so he wouldn't have to hear himself make a very undignified whine.

**Supercenter Store parking lot, 8 am**

Gabriel had driven around, listening to Tool at exceedingly loud volumes, trying to figure out what to do with his ruined pre-work ritual. He got a black coffee at the fast food place down the street and brooded for a half hour. Finally, he snapped ano decided to go back and give the wet, sexy blonde with the crap car another pice of his mind.

But the bay was empty when he got back, so,  grouchier than before, Gabriel had proceeded to wash Elvira with a little more enthusiasm than was probably necessary.

His morning still prickling in his temper, Gabriel pulled into the parking lot at work. As his ritual, he made sure to get there early, while the good spots in the employee section were still emoth.

And he froze.

Because sitting in his favourite spot was a mostly-primer-grey 1967 mustang.

"No. No. _No_." Gabriel muttered over and over again as he pulled the employee vest over his t-shirt. "You have got to be shitting me."

Inside, the manager- a big, jovial German polar bear of a man- waved Gabriel over. "GABE! I want you to meet our new auto desk associate. Jack, this is Gabriel, housewares. Gabe, can you show him around?"

"Deliverance?" Gabriel flailed. "HOW ARE YOU HERE."

"Small world, Mall Goth." Jack grinned that adorable, gap-toothed grin again and Gabriel scrubbed his hands over his face.

"If you're gonna be working here, dude, you can't be living in your car." Gabriel hissed as he dragged Jack off. "I don't care that the website says it welcomes campers in the parking lot. We got a reputation to maintain!"

"It ain't like I got a lot of money, man." Jack yanked his arm free as soon as they were out of Mr. Wilhelm's sight. "Why do you think I was takin' a quarter shower in the car wash?"

"Are you a crazy hick axe murderer?" Gabriel asked him Very Seriously.

"Did someone actually die in My Chemical Romance out there?" Jack sassed him back.

"No." Gabriel threw his hands up. "Maybe a mouse. I'm not sure, I can't find the fuckin' thing, i can just smell it."

"Then, No. Worst I ever killed was a rabid fox in the barn one summer." Jack shoved his hands in his still-damp pockets. "Look, man, I thought I could make somethin' of myself out here. Nothin' for me at home and.. look, I don't mean t'keep messin' up your day."

"When was the last time you had a real meal?" Gabriel sighed.

Jack paused, visibly doing the math. "Monday? No. Wednesday." His stomach actually grumbled, and his faintly-freckled face reddened. "Wednesday."

"Does that piece of shit really do 110?" Gabe asked, to distract himself from the Horrible Idea that he was having.

"Sure enough." Jack chuckled, ducking his head. "Elvira, there?"

"Nah, but she looks good." Gabriel laughed, then scrubbed his hand over his face again. He didn't do things by half measures, ever. "Goddamnit, look, you come with me tonight, my mom always makes way too much food. Don't you be turning out to be some freak axe murderer after she feeds you, ok?"

"I'll even do the dishes." Jack turned that smile all the way up and Gabriel wanted to die.

"Just don't hose yourself off in the kitchen. I don't want my grandmother to die of a heart attack." 

 

 

 


End file.
